When Two Worlds Collide
by Ashen Skies
Summary: [HD slash] In another world Harry accepted Draco's friendship and was Sorted into Slytherin. Now he has found a way to change places with Gryffindor Harry, who learns that there is more to Malfoy than it seems...
1. Prologue: The Potion

**Summary:** In another world Harry accepted Draco's friendship and was Sorted into Slytherin. Now he has found a way to change places with Gryffindor Harry, who learns that there is more to Malfoy than it seems...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or remotely have any relation to Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling, though I do have the HP books. I do not have any permission to write this, and I do so solely for my own pleasure and am not making any profit from it.

**Pairings:** HP/DM, SB/RL, RW/HG and others

**Timeline:** Fourth book onwards and the fifth never existed in my happy imaginary world.

* * *

**When Two Worlds Collide**

_Prologue: The Potion_

* * *

"Are you sure about this? It's almost done, yes, but you could still forget the entire thing..." Silver-grey eyes were worried, and a slim hand reached up to run fingers through loose silver-blond hair. Draco's sharp, fine-boned features were creased with anxiety, though he still managed to convey a sense of superiority and calm, lounging against a wall.

His companion looked up at him from his sitting position beside a cauldron. Brilliant green eyes crinkled up in a smile behind round spectacles, and a pout made his tanned face seem a few years younger. Standing, Harry would be slightly shorter, slightly thinner than the other boy, but their builds were similar, their seemingly delicate bodies hiding trained muscles. "What, you don't trust our abilities?"

"Oh, _that_ I trust. It's just this idea that I don't."

"Come on... I could have done it without you, you know, and go there and be back with no one the wiser."

Silver eyes narrowed. "Even if you _could_ have done it by yourself, which I seriously doubt considering your potions skill, I will _spank_ you if you even consider the idea again."

Harry laughed outright. "And how is that supposed to be a punishment?"

"True..."

"Come on, Draco, don't back out on me now," Harry cajoled, standing up and crossing over to the other teen. "You're a Malfoy! I bet you've done lots of more dangerous stuff than this."

A shadow passed over Draco's face, which caused Harry to immediately hold up a warning finger. "No. No self-pity, or thinking about the past. You're over that, Draco."

"You were the one to mention it!" he snapped.

"Okay, okay... my bad. But you've got to learn to be less sensitive to that topic," Harry said soothingly. He pulled Draco's stiff body into a hug, and the blond gradually relaxed in Harry's embrace, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist. "I care about you, Draco, and if you don't learn to let go you'll never be free of it."

"I know, I know. I also know that if you don't add the powdered crows' feet in the next five seconds –"

"Ack!" Harry yelped as he let go of Draco and scrambled back to the cauldron, kneeling next to it and dumping the contents of a jar into the potion.

Laughing, Draco sat down in an elegant crossed-legged position next to Harry. "Ron and Hermione – hell, perhaps even the rest of the school – will be very upset if they find out I let you do this, especially with Voldemort still about," he mused.

"And does that worry you?"

"No, of course not. Firstly because they have nothing on me, and secondly, they're _not_ going to find out. You're going to go there and come back straight away, and if it works we'll try it some other time – with me coming along and those two standing guard. You hear me, Harry?"

Harry flapped a hand at him. "Yes, yes, I hear you," he said impatiently, peering into the cauldron. "I've heard you a million times."

Draco huffed. "Just because I have the _sense_ to worry – no, not that jar, the one next to it! Honestly, Harry!"

Harry put down the jar he held, picked up another, and carefully added its contents to the potion. Once done, he put the jar down and stuck his tongue out at Draco.

A pale hand shot out and grabbed his chin, and suddenly Harry found his face inches from Draco's. "Don't do that, or I might take it as an invitation to abandon this useless project and take you right here," he growled.

Harry grinned, closed the space between their mouths, and gave Draco a light kiss. They both drew back, Draco releasing Harry with a small smile, and Harry still grinning.

"Hurry up and finish the potion so you can be back before dinner," Draco ordered. "The last part's the easiest part, so be quick about it."

Harry saluted. "Yes sir!"

Laughing and joking, they completed the potion five minutes later. Harry picked up a clean, empty bottle and filled it with a ladle-full of potion, pocketing it, then poured the rest of the small cauldron into a goblet. Then he crossed over to the full-length mirror in the bathroom, Draco next to him.

"Well... this is it. Months of research, weeks of preparations..." Harry took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I really hope this works."

Draco turned Harry to face him and leaned in, and the two of them shared a passionate kiss. Finally they broke apart for air, and Draco took Harry's face in his hands. "It should work, we've done it exactly as the book says," he told the black-haired teen seriously. "So just drink the potion and do it."

"Right. Love you, Draco."

"Harry... none of us are going to war or anything, you know."

"But still, it might go wrong, and –"

"Alright! If it makes you feel better, let's pretend one of us is going to die, and –"

"Draco!"

"I love you."

Harry laughed, and hugged Draco. "This is the biggest thing we've ever done, and I can't help feeling this sense of foreboding..."

"Then don't do it," Draco said bluntly.

Harry grinned and stepped back. "Then where's the fun in life?"

"In actually living?" Draco suggested.

Laughing, Harry cuffed him on the arm. "Okay then, here I go." He gulped down the potion in the goblet, gave Draco a quick hug, and then placed both palms on the mirror, gaze locking with Draco's through the mirror's reflection.

And almost bit his tongue as the world dissolved.

* * *

"What the hell did you do, Malfoy!" Harry Potter glared at his arch-nemesis, standing there unconcernedly, twirling his wand in long fingers.

Draco Malfoy smirked. "Weasley attacked me first, Potter," he drawled, watching amusedly as the Mudblood tried to calm the whimpering, twitching red-haired buffoon curled up on the cold stone floor and Potter standing over them both, facing him down.

"_What did you do to Ron_?"

"Nothing Pomfrey won't be able to fix," shrugged Draco. "Though it _will_ give him hell before she heals him."

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked – and sounded – like he was going to die any moment, and then back at Malfoy. His glare intensified ten-fold. "You'll pay for that," he ground out, whipping out his wand. "Stupefy!"

He didn't expect the Slytherin to fall for that, and as expected, Malfoy ducked, and the red beam ricocheted off the wall and hit a shocked Hermione, who slumped next to Ron. The two didn't notice, however; by then already throwing numerous other spells at each other, moving further along the corridor, away from Harry's two friends as they weaved and ducked.

Suddenly Harry staggered, wand dropping from numb fingers. As his back hit the wall behind him, a pair of green eyes identical to his swam before his hazy vision, and behind it he could just see a beam of blue light lance towards him, and Malfoy's own silver eyes going wide with – was that... _worry_?

And then he could see no more, as the world shattered into tiny, tiny pieces.

* * *

The first thing Harry could see as he struggled to clear his head was a spear of blue light heading right at him, with other multi-coloured lights bouncing off walls all around him, and he thought hazily, _None of us are going to war, eh, Draco?_

Then something slammed into him, knocking him out of harm's way, and his ears registered the sound of glass breaking as he dazedly watched the blue light hit the wall and vanish, while the other lights either did the same or died out. "Ow..." he murmured, still out of it.

The thing that had hit him got off him, and a cold voice sneered, "You are an _idiot_, Potter."

He knew that voice, and he could, if he strained, detect the concealed worry under layers of disdain. His head cleared enough for him to push himself to a sitting position, to blink at one pissed off Draco Malfoy standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest.

"Um..." Did this mean they failed, and Draco was angry with him for worrying him? "I just…"

He watched, confused, as silver-grey eyes suddenly widened in shock. The Slytherin pointed a shaking finger at him. "You... how... your robe!" he sputtered.

Harry glanced down at himself, the last traces of wooziness clearing. "Um, what about it?" he asked cluelessly, looking himself over as he stood.

"Your Slytherin badge, that's what!" Draco snapped, frustrated.

Harry looked at his badge. It was the same as always, snake and all. "What about it?" he repeated a little distractedly as he registered something cold and wet against his skin. He delved into his pocket, fingers searching – and promptly cut himself. Wincing, he pulled his hand out again and looked glumly at the cut. The glass containing the potion had broken, most likely when he had been pushed aside by Draco.

"It's broken... but I guess we don't need it, huh, Draco? Since it didn't work..."

"What the _hell_ are you babbling about, Potter? Since when were we on a first name basis?"

Harry blinked, and looked around, _really_ looked. He was in a hallway, not the bathroom he had been in a few moments before, and he was wearing cast-off Dudley clothes that Draco had burned in a fit of fashion-induced rage long ago. A huge grin spread across Harry's face. "We did it!" he crowed, grabbing Draco in a hug – only to stagger back in shock when he was shoved back viciously.

"Don't _touch_ me," Draco ground out through gritted teeth. "Have you lost it?"

Harry was confused. "Draco...?" he ventured, watching the other boy brush himself off. Things couldn't be _that_ different here, could it...?

"And _don't_ call me 'Draco', _Potter_!"

Apparently, it could. "Look, Dra – Malfoy. What badge am I supposed to have instead of Slytherin?"

Draco stared at him. Had the Golden Boy finally cracked? "You're in _Gryffindor_," he spat, eyeing his rival – who right now looked lost, confused, and also... happy? The happiness disappeared, however, when he heard the word 'Gryffindor'.

"And what am I to you?" The words were soft, almost afraid.

"The fucking _perfect_ Boy-Who-Lives-to-make-my-life-a-misery!"Draco retorted, anger dissipating as he saw the hurt become more pronounced.

"Oh..."

Draco examined the boy who stood in front of him. Potter's robes (_Slytherin robes_!) were open, revealing a fitting woolen turtleneck – which, oddly, looked pretty much identical to one that he himself owned – matched with a pair of figure-hugging black jeans over... dragonhide boots? He blinked. Hadn't Potter been wearing his robes shut a while ago with those disgustingly ratty shoes poking out from underneath? His hair was neater, too. It didn't make sense, Potter couldn't learn self-grooming if his defeating the dark lord had depended on it.

Harry, in turn, looked the new Draco over. He had his hair gelled back – a style which Harry had convinced _his_ Draco to drop sometime in second year, as he loved to run his fingers through the fine strands. This Draco was slightly more filled out, too, and perhaps slightly taller. And his boots, peeking out from under his closed robe, were not the black leather ones his Draco had been wearing, but brown.

Finally they met each other's eyes, and Harry's heart sank. Yes, this Draco before him didn't belong to him, had never belonged to him – there was too much anger, too much coldness in those frosty eyes. This Draco had never melted, and it hurt Harry to see icy walls where there had once been molten silver.

Something occurred to him. When had this happened? If he was supposed to be in Gryffindor, then... it had to be...

"On the train, first year – did we meet?" he asked.

Draco was curious. This was a totally different Potter – instead of that tired anger in those green eyes, there was love when Potter looked at him; love and care and concern. There had to be a reason for this, and if he acted civilized for a while he just might get some answers. So he answered the inane questions, concealing his impatience, and ignoring the dull ache in his heart.

"Yes, we did – I offered friendship to you, and you caustically _rejected_ me for that pauper Weasley."

Something flashed in Harry's eyes, and now shutters hid his emotions. "Before that, in Diagon Alley – Madame Malkin's?"

Draco sighed. "Yes, we met then, too. I talked to you, but you didn't tell me who you were, except that you were a pureblood, and then you left."

So it had changed ever since Madame Malkin's, so many years ago. "And – what have we been doing all these years?" Harry half-hoped the answer would be 'shagging'.

"Trying to kill, incapacitate, or otherwise just maim each other," was the curt reply.

"Oh. I see..."

The Slytherin watched, curiosity growing, as Potter bit his lip, obviously bothered. Finally he asked, "Are you going to tell me why you seem to have lost your mind, Potter?"

The boy looked up, startled, as if he had forgotten Draco was there. "Yes, um... I rather think I have to. You'd better sit down for this..."

* * *

"Ow..."

"Harry? Harry, don't scare me, _please_ look at me, oh, they're going to _kill_ me..."

Harry opened his eyes and blinked a few times, clearing the fog from his mind. Draco Malfoy's face swam into view above him and he groaned, closing his eyes again.

"Harry Potter! This isn't funny!"

Harry wondered at the panic in Malfoy's voice, and opened his eyes again, looking around out of the corners of his eye. He was lying in Malfoy's arms, in the middle of a spacious, elegant bathroom. What the hell?

"What happened?" he muttered, half to himself.

Malfoy, however, replied. "You touched the mirror and it flared. The light blinded me, but when I could see again you were crumpled on the floor. Do you feel sick? Do you need to see Madame Pomfrey or anything?"

Harry struggled to sit up, utterly confused by Malfoy's actions. "Why are you so concerned, _Malfoy_?" he snarled, pushing Malfoy away as he slowly got to his feet.

"What?" Malfoy scrambled up, hurt and bewilderment on his face. "Have you lost your memory or something, Harry?"

"And stop calling me 'Harry'! You have no right to!"

"Harry, I told you, this isn't funny –"

"I should be the one saying that," Harry interrupted, turning to glare at Malfoy. He blinked, however, when he noticed Malfoy was gaping at his robes.

"What?" he asked guardedly.

"Your badge – it's Gryffindor's!"

He glanced down and back up again. "Yeah, so?" he snapped.

Draco shut his mouth, realizing what must have happened. He'd _thought_ Harry felt much skinnier than before. So it had worked... but what had happened over there, to twist Harry into someone that hated him, from the looks of it?

"Okay, fine. You want me to call you 'Potter'? Then I shall. Just answer a few of my questions first, and then I'll answer as many of yours as you care to ask. Within limits, of course."

Harry glared at him, and then sighed, seeming to deflate at his calm, no-nonsense tone. He had the feeling he was out of his league here. "Okay, ask," he said resignedly.

"What's the relationship between you and me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer."

Harry's brows furrowed with annoyance, but he replied, "You and I are enemies."

Draco groaned inwardly. He had suspected that. "Okay, um... what happened to make us enemies?"

Harry's eyebrows now shot up. "You don't remem – okay, okay. Um, in Madame Malkin's, we met and I thought you were a snotty brat, then on the train, first year, I was with Ron when you came in and started insulting him. You offered me friendship saying that you can help me to make the right kind of friends, and I rejected you, and ever since then you've been out to make my life hell."

"Well, that sounds about right, to make you end up in Gryffindor," Draco muttered. He looked up at Harry and shrugged. "Okay, you can ask me questions now. But quickly, because Harry's going to come back any time now."

"Harry who? What the _hell_ is going on!"

"And that about sums it up," Draco sighed. "Okay then. You might want to sit down for this..."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

I really have no idea where this is going…

**Ashen Skies  
**_"Harry half-hoped the answer would be 'shagging'."_


	2. Chapter One: Small Details

**Summary:** In another world Harry accepted Draco's friendship and was Sorted into Slytherin. Now he has found a way to change places with Gryffindor Harry, who learns that there is more to Malfoy than it seems...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or remotely have any relation to Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling, though I do have the HP books. I do not have any permission to write this, and I do so solely for my own pleasure and am not making any profit from it.

**Pairings:** HP/DM, SB/RL, RW/HG and others

**Timeline:** Fourth book onwards and the fifth never existed in my happy imaginary world.

* * *

**When Two Worlds Collide**

_Chapter One: Small Details_

* * *

"I don't really know where to start... okay, first off – I'm from another world."

"Right."

"No, really!"

Draco's expression spoke volumes about. "Then," he suggested with exaggerated patience, as if talking to a madman, "why don't you _go_ _back_ to your world."

Harry sighed, frustrated. "I can't! The bottle containing the potion I have to drink to get back broke, and since only the one who initiated the switch can switch back that means I have to create another potion! And I need your help for that, because the recipe is in _your_ private collection."

Draco stiffened. "How do you know about that?"

"Because – oh, hell. Look, let me just talk, okay?"

"Fine. You say you come from another world. What kind of world is it?"

Harry ignored the patronising tone Draco used. "A world in which it all changed when I met you – sorry, the other Draco – in Madame Malkin's. You – I mean, Draco was being fitted, and I just came in, and he asked if I was going to Hogwarts..."

"_Hullo, Hogwarts too?"_

"_Yes," he replied._

_Confident silver eyes looked over carelessly, then returned for a more thorough examination, causing Harry to bite his lip, wanting to fidget but remembering in time that he was being fitted. Then the boy said abruptly, "My name's Draco Malfoy."_

_Harry blinked. "Um, pleased to meet you?"_

_A slow, small smile did wonders for that pale face, and Harry suddenly felt much better. "Likewise. You may call me Draco. And you are...?"_

_Harry hesitated. What if saying his name would make the boy treat him like the others did? He didn't want to lose a friend before even making one. Then he decided he was being silly, and said, "Harry Potter. Call me Harry."_

_Something flickered in those eyes and the smile faltered, before becoming hard, fake. "Harry Potter..." he murmured. "So I have the... _pleasure_... of addressing the Boy Who Lived..."_

"_Please don't do that," Harry blurted._

"_Do what?"_

"_Smile like that. Act like that. I mean, you could pretend I wasn't Harry Potter, and just Harry, if it would make you treat me normal." As the words left his mouth, he blushed, wishing he could take them back. He sounded too desperate._

_But Draco didn't seem put-off. He stared at Harry, barely concealed wonder in his eyes. Then he shook himself out of his thoughts and the smile softened imperceptibly. "Alright then, 'just Harry'."_

_Harry smiled back in relief._

"_You were raised among Muggles, weren't you?"_

"_Muggles? Oh, um, yes."_

_Draco shook his head. "A pity. Such a powerful pureblood like you, wasting away amongst _them_. But if you like, I can teach you all about our kind. I don't suppose you know anything about our world?"_

"_Um, no."_

"_Do you even know what's Quidditch?"_

_Harry shifted uneasily and promptly got a reprimand from Madame Malkin. "No?" he ventured, feeling horribly ignorant._

"_Goodness. You were certainly deprived. Quidditch is only the best sport, or rather the only sport worth playing. I've played since young, and it would be a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house. I don't suppose you know about the Hogwarts houses, do you?"_

"_I didn't even know about Hogwarts until I received my letter," Harry said apologetically._

_Draco rolled his eyes. "Figures. That's why I say they shouldn't let anyone other than Purebloods in, though you're an exception, I guess, having no choice in the matter. It's just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways. The houses – I say, look at that man!"_

_Harry turned, and saw Hagrid in the front window, waving and holding two large ice-creams. He smiled and nodded back, glad to know something Draco didn't; and said, "That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts. The gamekeeper. He brought me here."_

"_Oh," was Draco's only reply. Harry turned to look at him, and from the half-sneer on his lips he guessed that the pale boy had something to add but refrained from it. "I've heard of him. Is he your..._ friend_?"_

"_Yes," answered Harry, puzzled and slightly hurt at Draco's tone._

"_I see you have a lot to learn about our world, Harry. Like about the different... races... we have."_

"_Races?"_

"_For the lack of a better word. There are wizards and witches, and then there are other types like werewolves, banshees, centaurs... giants."_

_Harry was about to protest the derision in his voice when he said 'giants', but Madame Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear." Reluctantly, he got off the stool, and raised his eyes to look at Draco. "I'll see you at Hogwarts, then? And maybe you can teach me about the wizarding world?" he asked._

_He was rewarded with a proper smile, not the half ones, the fake ones he had gotten previously. "On the train, then, Harry," Draco confirmed with his delicious drawl._

_And as Harry left, he couldn't help but beam at nothing in particular when he heard one of the witches in the shop say, "My gracious, Mr Malfoy, I don't think I've ever seen you smile so beautifully before."_

"That sounds very... me, and yet, not me," Draco muttered, mostly to himself. Harry could read the fear behind the mask that he was trying to keep up, a fear that was born from being struck right at the heart. He had to smile; it seemed like he was getting through.

He'd rejoiced too soon, however. He'd underestimated the extent of this Draco's wariness. He could almost _see_ Draco mentally cursing himself for that moment of weakness, pulling himself together again. Harry watched as Draco went back to defensive mode, his face half-shadowed in the fading light of the day as he leaned on the opposite wall, refusing to sit like Harry had advised him to do. "You asked about our meeting on the train. Tell me about that."

Harry sighed, but decided to humour the Slytherin. "Okay. The train. Um, I couldn't figure out how to get onto the platform, but luckily I met the Weasleys –"

"The Weasleys!"

"Yes, the Weasleys. Oh, right – you still hate them don't you?"

"_Yes_," Draco hissed vehemently.

"Okay, okay! I suppose that makes sense, since you and I are enemies here. In my world Draco has made friends with Ron and Hermione, but it took a long time, I can tell you that."

The look on Draco's face said clearly that he didn't believe _any_ set of circumstances would get him to make friends with Ron and Hermione. Harry decided to leave this topic alone for the time being.

"So, anyway, I sat with Ron on the train, and he was explaining Quidditch to me when you showed up..."

_Harry looked up at the sound of the door sliding open, and grinned to see who was there. "Draco!" he exclaimed. "I was wondering where you were. Um, who're they?"_

"_Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," Draco said dismissively. "Look, Harry, would you –"_

"_Draco _Malfoy_? Harry, you _know_ him?"_

_Draco's gaze honed in on Ron, who was red with indignation and gaping with shock. "Yes, he knows me. I don't need to ask your name, you must be a _Weasley_. Red hair, freckles, tattered clothing – the trademark of your family. My father told me you breed like rabbits."_

"_Say that again," Ron challenged, shooting to his feet, fists balled._

_Harry leapt up and gently pushed Ron back into his seat. "Whoa, calm down," he laughed nervously. Turning to Draco, who was sneering at Ron, he said reproachfully, "That wasn't nice."_

_Draco opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. "Fine," he muttered. Leaning in close to Harry, he whispered, "But only for you." Then he straightened, smirking as Harry turned red, and nodded brusquely at Ron. "Weasley," he acknowledged, a world of scorn in his voice, and Harry comforted himself with the thought that at least it wasn't an insult. Ron, however, only glowered._

"_If you would excuse us for a second." So saying, Draco pulled Harry out of the compartment and shut the door. Ordering Crabbe and Goyle to stand guard, he dragged Harry a little way down the narrow corridor._

"_Harry," he said in a low voice, "The Weasleys and my family have been enemies for generations. That Weasley in there will probably badmouth me once you get back, so I'm telling you now, don't believe anything he says."_

_Harry shrugged helplessly. "But the Weasley family were pretty nice, when I met them."_

"_Didn't you notice at least I made an effort to be civilised but he didn't even try? They might seem nice," Draco said darkly, "but people like them are going to be the downfall of the wizarding community."_

"_Why –"_

"_Harry!"_

_They looked back. Ron was trying to get past Crabbe and Goyle, only just woken up from his shocked stupor. Harry called back, "Just wait, Ron!" and turned back to Draco._

"_I'd hate to lose you as a friend to his lies," Draco said, a trace of panic in his voice, "so don't believe him." He swallowed, then forced out, "_Please_, Harry." And then he was gone, as suddenly as he came, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering after him._

_And so Harry barely listened as Ron told him about how evil the Malfoys and the Slytherins were, and sat dazedly throughout the encounter with Hermione, and when they were in the Great Hall and the Sorting Hat yelled out 'Slytherin!' he anxiously searched for Draco's face at the Slytherin table and found a small smile on it. And he smiled back, and looked apologetically at the gaping Weasleys, and went to sit next to Draco, feeling apprehensive after all the things he had heard about the house. But it all melted away when Draco leaned in and whispered, "Welcome to Slytherin."_

"You do realize that he was so anxious to be your friend only because he had been given... specific instructions, and the promise of dire consequences if he failed?" Draco's voice was hard, his arms crossed over his chest. "He played you well. Just like I would have, if given the chance."

Harry laughed, and from the look on Draco's face, he hadn't expected laughter – resentment, suspicion, indignant anger, but not laughter. "Well, yes, I know, but that was only at first –"

"Save it, Potter. That's enough."

Harry blinked at the interruption and the cold, hard look on Draco's face. "Draco, do you still mean to say you don't believe me?"

"It's 'Malfoy', and I said to stop it." Draco sneered at him. "A very elaborate hoax, I admit. But for all its complications it's still so _juvenile_, but then again what else could I expect of you?"

"Hey, look here –"

"Well, well, here's a sight."

Harry scrambled to his feet as Draco looked up, both startled as Professor Snape loomed in the darkness, arms folded in his cloak.

"Shouldn't you be on your way to dinner, Malfoy?" he asked, ignoring Harry, who quickly muttered a soft spell while his attention was turned; an Illusion charm on his badge to make it Gryffindor's, an spell Draco had taught him long ago; just like he had taught him to pay attention, especially to small details, since small details were what defined a person – or gave their acts away.

"Yes, I was, but then Potter and his team accosted me, and Weasley attacked me. I hexed him purely in self-defence, but then Potter tried to hex me too, so I ducked and his spell knocked Granger unconscious instead. We had a duel and ended up here, and I think he's a little out of his mind right now," Draco lied smoothly.

Snape now turned to sneer at Harry. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for fighting, Potter. Come, Malfoy, let's go and see to Weasley and Granger."

He swept off, leaving Harry gaping after him. He turned to Draco, indignant, about to say something when Draco beat him to it. "Finally realized that the Dark side stronger after all?" he said coldly. "Sorry, but it's no use trying to suck up to me and pretend to be my friend now. You could have at least made your story more believable. Another world? Pathetic, Potter, I can't believe you can sink so low and don't bother me with your idiocy again."

Harry regained his wits when Draco was about to round the bend in the corridor, and, angry and fed up with this Draco's stubbornness, yelled after him, "If it's all a hoax then how do I know you so well?"

Draco froze, back to him. Then he said, very softly, very dangerously, "You don't." And then he was gone from view, robes swishing around the corner.

Harry sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, trudging after the two of them, feeling inexplicably tired and down at the way Draco had turned out in this world – so hurtful, so terribly sad. Draco clearly felt the truth of his story, yet insisted on denying it. He must have been scared – but of what? He must have not wanted to get hurt, to get rejected again. Perhaps it was Lucius' influence. Who knew what the manipulative sadistic cruel heartless bastard was doing to him here?

Harry knew what he had to do. What Draco would do.

_Draco, _he thought, _I hope you have better luck than I have. You've always been more pigheaded, anyway, so you should have an easier time with my other self. Hopefully when I switch back they'll understand each other better. After all, if we've found happiness together, why can't they?_

_And, oh, I'm missing you so much already._

* * *

"That's really, really blatant favouritism, that is," Harry muttered to himself as he trudged down the stairs. "I don't recall Snape ever being that bad. Well, maybe he _does_ terrify Neville, but _still_..."

He found himself in front of the doors of the Great Hall before he knew it; his feet had taken him there while he was busy mumbling to himself. Sighing, he pushed open the doors and went in, still lost in thought, as he headed towards his table.

It was only when the hall went silent that he blinked and looked up.

"What?" he asked the hall at large, unnerved at the way everyone was staring, but hiding his uneasiness behind an expression that said clearly he had every right to be doing what he was doing, even though he didn't know exactly _what_ he was doing, and they had no right to question him. It was a very useful look, and he had learned from an expert, so it usually cowed anyone he used it on.

It didn't work this time, though, so he repeated, growing annoyed, "What?"

"Potter, I know that you rely on your lapdogs to do your every bidding, but surely you aren't blind, even if you do have the brains of a two year old?"

Harry turned to stare at Draco, sitting on a specially placed regal-looking chair at the end of the Slytherin table like a king reigning over his subjects, looking at him with a sneer on his lips but an unreadable look in his eyes. He looked around again, at all the faces gaping at him, and then realized what was wrong.

Inwardly he cringed; he was so used to walking to the Slytherin table that his feet had taken him there on autopilot. _See, this is why Draco keeps telling you to pay attention!_ a voice in his head scolded. Harry quickly thought of an excuse. Walking right up to Draco, quiet voice nevertheless sounding through the entire hall, he said, "You hurt Ron and Hermione. I can't let you off the hook for that."

"Bring it on," Draco sneered, but something flickered in his eyes – relief?

_He's relieved that I'm back to normal_, Harry realized, and almost laughed. _Well then..._

"Oh, really? Then which of us is responsible for defeating who?" he asked loudly for the hall to hear, and then, his body angled _just so_ that no one but Draco could see his face, he _winked_ and murmured, "Draco."

It was worth the risk of being labelled 'deranged' to see Draco's features twist in a mix of annoyance, disbelief, confusion and anger.

He strolled to the Gryffindor table, leaving Draco to regain his composure behind him, forcing himself to ignore Dumbledore's piercing stare. As talk started up again, and he neared the Gryffindor table, he panicked – where did the other Harry usually sit?

He swept the table with a glance, and noticed somewhere in the middle of the table, Seamus, Dean to his right, poke Neville to his left and make an obvious 'move' gesture. The cheerful boy looked up and grinned at Harry, beckoning, and thankfully, Harry slid in between him and Neville.

"You showed him, Harry!" Seamus said excitedly. "He couldn't even make a comeback when you mentioned your duel; boy, was he humiliated then!"

Harry was on the verge of asking "What duel?" before he snapped his jaw shut. He was supposed to be the Harry they knew, and that meant he couldn't ask stupid questions like that. Even if he _had_ been speaking about the whole defeating Voldemort thing, and not some duel he didn't even know he had had with Draco.

So he settled for saying, "Yeah, he was."

"Heh, you should have reminded him that you can do so much he can't, like defeat a powerful Dark wizard and speak Parseltongue. I bet he's jealous that he can't speak Parseltonge, he's just the type to want to – I mean, he's slithery like a snake, what?" he sniggered.

"Uh, yeah." _They know I can speak Parseltongue?_

"Wait, being reminded of the duel must have reminded him of the Parseltongue thing, so you got him twice! Hah, the git –"

"Seamus."

"What, Dean?"

"Have you forgotten about Ron and Hermione?"

Seamus' eyes widened, and he turned from Dean to Harry. "Oh, sorry, I forget! Dean's right, what's wrong? What happened?"

Harry couldn't suppress a grin; though he didn't know them that well back in his world, from what he _did_ know of them, these two hadn't changed a bit. _Are they together here, too?_ he wondered.

Recalling what Hermione had said, he replied, "Malfoy and Ron had a fight, and he hexed Ron. Hermione was taking care of Ron as I faced off with Malfoy, then we started duelling and Stupefy hit her. Then while there was a standoff, Snape came and stopped us, and we brought Ron and Hermione to the hospital wing. They're having dinner there as Pomfrey checks them, and they'll be back later if there are no after-effects. I stayed to talk with them for a while before I got too hungry."

Seamus grimaced. "Not again... Malfoy spun some story to make it seem like your fault, didn't he?"

It seemed fights were _very_ common – and in public, too – between him and Draco. "Yeah, he made it seem like it was Ron's and my fault, but we woke Hermione up and she told us the entire thing up till the point she was hit. Snape took twenty points off me, though, and none for Malfoy, but thank goodness didn't give me detention."

"The slimy biased git," Seamus muttered.

Harry nodded and, in case he let anything else slip, quickly said, "Forget it, let's eat." Seamus was more than happy to comply, and dug into his food. Dean leaned forward, gave Harry an encouraging and apologetic smile, and then started on his dinner. So they _were_ together; Harry recognized that smile as the one Dean always used when he felt embarrassed by his boyfriend.

He looked around him. Things looked different from this angle, on the other side of the Great Hall where he usually sat, and yet it was so alike. It was just a normal dinner in Hogwarts, except... Draco was so far away. He stared at the Slytherin table for a while, wishing he were back with his housemates, before realising there were two pairs of eyes watching him. The first he ignored, since that was always the best thing to do when Dumbledore got suspicious, but the second...

He glanced to his right, and saw Ginny Weasley turn bright red and duck her head, pretending to be fascinated by her chicken. He winced. Oh no, she was in love with him here, too... nobody should have to turn down the same person twice, he mused. Maybe he would do some discreet matchmaking; in his world, Ginny was now very happy with Colin Creevey (Draco's brilliant idea), and he liked it that way.

Sighing inaudibly, he began eating. He didn't taste the food, though; he was too busy agonizing over what to do. How would he get Draco to trust him? Wait, scratch that, he needed Draco to start _believing_ him in the first place. Hmm... maybe he should just grab Draco and snog him senseless; he was _sure_ that this Draco had to feel _something_ for the Harry he was supposed to be, right? Fine line between hate and love and all that. So if he could just make this Draco come to his senses by giving him irrefutable proof...

_Draco pulled back from the kiss, eyes dazed and half-lidded, lips a fetching red. "Damn, Harry," he breathed, "Why did you wait so long to do this? We could have been together so long ago, if only you'd shown me that my hate was actually misdirected love."_

_Harry tenderly kissed him again. "I'm not your Harry, but if you'd help me get back to my world, you can have him back, and –"_

"_No!" Draco cried. "You can't bring him back! He hates me. You can't possibly give me a taste of what could have been and then send the other Harry back to hate me! I won't let you go –"_

"Harry! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, stop thumping my back, Seamus, I'm fine," Harry croaked, reaching for his goblet of juice and gulping it down once the other boy had stopped trying to cave his back in.

"Geez, don't just suddenly start choking like that!" Seamus huffed. "You scared the hell out of all of us!"

Harry gave his audience a weak grin. "I'll try not to do it again," he promised.

_Okay, no way am I trying that,_ Harry groaned in his mind as everyone else went back to their food. _My subconsciousness is right. Can't just suddenly spring it on poor Draco... I have to work up to it slowly, convince him bit by bit... get him to start accepting my friendship first before letting the other Harry come back and finish the job... but how? With solid proof first, that's how, something he can't deny... something that only Draco and I know, and no one else..._

By the time dinner had ended, Harry had a plan.

Okay, so it wasn't a very _good_ or a very well _thought_ out plan, but hey, Draco was the brains in the relationship here; he'd never had to complete a task so daunting as this one all by himself. No, don't start thinking like that. Remember what Draco said: confidence. Even if you didn't have it, you told yourself that you did. Confidence was key.

So. By the time dinner had ended, Harry had a Plan.

Right.

* * *

Hello all! Thanks for reading! I reformatted this, hope it's easier to read now.

Okay, then. If you click that button in the bottom left hand corner it will dispatch a troop of deadly pink bunnies to kill off Voldemort (they're his only weakness, he laughs himself to death when he sees them), so not only the world will be saved but Harry can finally get it on with Draco.

So for the sake of the world and true love, review.

**Ashen Skies  
**_"And oh, I'm missing you so much already."_


	3. Chapter Two: Unfamiliar Friends

**Summary:** In another world Harry accepted Draco's friendship and was Sorted into Slytherin. Now he has found a way to change places with Gryffindor Harry, who learns that there is more to Malfoy than it seems...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or remotely have any relation to Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling, though I do have the HP books. I do not have any permission to write this, and I do so solely for my own pleasure and am not making any profit from it.

**Pairings:** HP/DM, SB/RL, RW/HG and others

**Timeline:** Fourth book onwards and the fifth never existed in my happy imaginary world.

* * *

**When Two Worlds Collide**

_Chapter Two: Unfamiliar Friends_

* * *

"Whoa, hold up, so you're saying I got into Slytherin – just like _that_. Without a fight. Without any more convincing, or anything? Have I been tested for insanity in this world? Not that I really believe that whole switching worlds thing, you understand."

Draco eyed Harry with increasing irritation, as the Gryffindor paced in circles around the large bathroom. "I've been told my charisma knows no bounds," he drawled, trying to hide his impatience. "You must have been bowled over by my irresistible charm."

"Bullshit."

The Slytherin's fragile hold on his famous temper snapped. "Alright, that's _it_, I'm not saying anything else, we'll just – _I'll_ just sit here while you make yourself sick with dizziness and hopefully drop dead of exhaustion, and you can stew in your own mental agony until _my_ Harry comes back, because your moronically mulish attitude is not helping you _any_, I can tell you!"

Harry glared at him.

_At least, I hope he'll come back,_ Draco amended mentally, turning away from that glare. Harry had sworn to abide by a few rules before Draco had let him even _think_ about actually attempting the potion, and one of them had been to return in the space of five minutes. Draco had privately allowed him five more minutes' leeway, because he _knew_ how Harry was like, but half an hour had gone by so far and even Harry's insatiable curiosity would never get the better of his integrity, especially if Draco was involved.

In short, he was very, very worried.

Especially since Gryffindor Harry had told him he'd been in the middle of a duel when he'd been switched.

He glanced over at the Gryffindor – he still couldn't quite accept the fact that Harry had ended up in the Golden House, of all places, since he knew first-hand how entirely _Slytherin_ Harry was. The other boy caught his gaze, and the hatred in those eyes made Draco flinch. He suddenly, desperately, achingly needed a hug – and not just from anybody. From the one person who was always there, but who now – wasn't.

_Harry… what happened? Please, please, come back soon. But above all – be safe._

_Please be safe._

The Gryffindor Harry suddenly made a break for the door, but for the sixth time was stung by the magical barrier that Draco had put around it; his next move was to try to attack Draco himself, but he was repelled – again – by yet another barrier around the Slytherin. Who merely sighed, having gotten used to the sheer impulsiveness of this Harry. _His_ Harry had learned to use wiles more than physical violence, but it had taken Draco a while to teach him.

_Would Harry have been like this – so violent, and hardened – would he have been like this, if it hadn't been for me?_ Draco wondered. He'd always been curious as to how much he'd influenced Harry, but to see his thoughts come to life in such a way was – unpleasant.

They subsided into a sort of belligerent silence, Harry finally sitting down on the floor, imitating Draco's cross-legged position. Mentally Draco chanted _Harry you idiot come back now_ over and over again; outwardly he had regained his cool and unruffled demeanour.

There was a knock on the door.

Harry shot to his feet and stared intensely at the door, with a sort of malignant glee, though Draco only opened his eyes lazily, and wearily. "Yes?" he called, putting just the right amount of threat, warning and annoyance into his voice that would have scared away any of the students who knew him.

"Draco, is Harry with you?"

He groaned out loud. All but one, that is.

Harry's eyes lit up, and a look of gleeful smugness spread across his face. "Hermione!" he shouted. "It's me! Malfoy has me locked up – won't let me out –"

"Harry? Draco – what are you _doing_ to him in there – wait, no, I don't want to know. Could I speak with him for a while first, though? It's important – about DADA, and Harry knows best about that –"

"Alright, alright, hold on," Draco grumbled, gracefully getting to his feet. "I guess it can't be helped…" He looked at Harry critically. "I don't suppose by some miracle you're my Harry again? No? Bloody shame, they're going to decapitate me, but I suppose this'll make you believe, if nothing else."

Harry's smile had faded; the easy way in which Hermione had called Draco by his first name, and her relaxed attitude at finding Harry and Draco together, had unpleasant implications. He was silent as Draco murmured the counter-spell, and a brief blue glow flared around the door before fading; he didn't move from his spot, staring hard at the door, as Draco opened it to reveal Hermione.

The girl looked around the room and raised an eyebrow. "No kinky equipment, I'm surprised," she commented. "Though if you were doing anything inappropriate with the cauldron, please leave me in the dark."

Despite the feeling of impending doom, Draco had to smile, rather relieved at having _his_ reality confirmed. Being in the same room as a Harry who hated him had been doing _wonders_ for his sanity. He couldn't resist needling Hermione, though. "I'm sure you wouldn't need any advice from us; you do well enough with Ronald, I hear. Sometimes very… _clearly_," he drawled.

Hermione went red, but managed to look haughty. "I came to consult with Harry, not trade wits with amateurs," she sniffed, but the laughter in her expression was plain. "Come, Harry, let us – Harry? Is anything wrong?"

Draco turned to look at Harry as well. The Gryffindor looked horrified, utterly lost, and – a little… scared. He felt the first traces of pity run through him since the boy had replaced his Harry – it had to be really disconcerting, to suddenly find yourself in a world where your enemy was your best friend, and discussed bedroom matters with your other best friends.

He hadn't dared yet to tell him about the 'lover' part.

Harry took a deep breath, let it out, took another; then he sent a pleading look towards the Gryffindor girl. "Hermione, please, if this is a joke – stop it _now_."

Draco had to admire this Harry's perseverance.

Hermione looked as confused as Harry was trying desperately not to look. "Joke?" she echoed. "What joke? What do you mean, 'this'? Harry – I don't understand –"

Draco made a discreet gesture that drew Hermione's attention to him, and shook his head slightly. Hermione, who had been working herself into a fit, subsided, but sent him a questioning look that demanded answers. _Wait_, Draco mouthed, and then turned back to Harry. He watched as a mental battle waged itself in Harry's mind, and noted the point when one particular thought won.

"How did you two become so friendly?" the now-Gryffindor demanded, eyes narrowed at Draco. He didn't look at Hermione – consciously or unconsciously, Draco didn't know, but he was betting on the latter. He himself had found it hard to look at Harry, who was so different from the one he'd grown to love, but had forced himself to. One of them had to be strong.

Draco considered the answers he could give. "It's a long story."

"I don't care! I want some answers, dammit!"

Draco made a face. "Language," he said automatically, then smacked himself mentally as Harry stared, slack-jawed, and then turned red with anger. His Harry would have simply rolled his eyes, but this one…

"Who the hell do you think you are to lecture me!"

Instead of replying, which would almost definitely make things worse – he could taste the words on the tip of his tongue, and they were not nice worse – Draco swallowed his temper and said calmly, "Do you want to hear this or not?"

Harry glared, and opened his mouth – to yell some more, no doubt.

"Harry James Potter! You will be quiet and listen to Draco, or so help me, I'll smack you myself!"

The two boys gaped at Hermione. Hands on her hips, she glared back. "Draco's been more than patient with you – I don't know what's wrong, exactly, but you have no right to act as if the world owes you!"

Harry just blinked. Then, to Draco's surprise – and relief – he sat down on the floor and crossed his arms. "I'm listening," he said curtly.

Draco gave Hermione a brief smile of thanks, which turned sheepish when she gave him a look that said he had a lot of explaining to do, and she had a feeling she wouldn't like any of it. As she sat, he recast the locking spell, and then sat down himself, resigned to the fact that he was in for another bout of long story-telling. "Where do you want me to start?" he asked.

"From where you left off," was Harry's immediate answer.

This time Draco didn't bother suppressing his groan. "We'll be here for hours."

"We have time," Hermione said firmly.

_I hope not, because it'd mean Harry's stuck there,_ Draco thought, but kept it to himself. He shifted to lean against the wall, making himself comfortable, and then took a deep breath, remembering…

_He had to smile at the wide-eyed amazement that radiated from Harry when the food appeared on the table – his cluelessness was rather endearing – but then he was distracted by Blaise asking him a question. It took Harry's pressing close to him to realize that the green-eyed boy was being bombarded with so many questions that there was no way he could even hear what any one person was saying. Mentally Draco berated himself, his father had assured him that the other Slytherins had all been instructed to treat Harry normally, but he should have realized that curiosity could never be fully restrained._

_Despite being a first-year, Draco was confident in his power, and so drew himself to as commanding a position he could sitting down. Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, he coolly waited. One by one the others fell silent – he'd just effectively declared that Harry was under his jurisdiction, a claim that could only be contested by Harry himself; it was one of many subtle Pureblood traditions regarding new blood. Harry, unaware of the implications, relaxed a little and turned to smile at Draco._

That seals it, _he thought with satisfaction as he noted the grudging acceptance of the others, even the seventh years. He felt a little bad, knowing that Harry had no idea what was happening, but he justified it by telling himself that he was doing Harry a favour, naming himself as his guide._

"_Harry is new to the Wizarding world," he informed the table. "Please do not overwhelm him. Harry?"_

_Harry looked questioningly at him._

_He smiled encouragingly. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"_

"_Oh. Um, hello… I'm Harry Potter." He gave his new housemates a tentative smile. "Pleased to meet all of you."_

_Draco squeezed Harry's shoulder, and then released it. "Introductions are in order, I think. You've already met Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." Harry nodded at the two large boys; they grunted acknowledgement. "Blaise?"_

_His black-haired, brown-eyed friend grinned at Harry, and offered him a hand to shake. "Hello, Harry. I'm Blaise Zabini, call me Blaise. If Draco's ever unavailable, you can come find me."_

"_We're all childhood friends," the brunette next to Blaise added as Harry shook the boy's hand. "Our parents move in the same circles… I'm Pansy Parkinson. Pleased to meet you, Harry."_

_By the time they reached their dorms, Harry was laughing easily with Blaise, and could already interpret some of Vince and Greg's grunts. While Draco was glad that he was fitting in, he couldn't help feeling a little left out. He didn't know why – he had been trained to detach himself from friendship, and to hate Harry Potter, since he was young. He shouldn't feel anything other than worry that attachment to others would lessen Harry's attachment to him._

_He shouldn't, but… he did._

_No. He didn't want to think about what he _did_ feel. Unconsciously his thoughts turned to that wooden box of his, where he had kept the drawings and stories he hadn't wanted his father to see, because he'd known that it would get him the beating of his young life._

_It had._

_In his mind's eye, the box burned._

"_Draco?"_

_He was jolted out of his thoughts by a worried voice. He blinked, and looked at Harry, who was watching him anxiously. "I'm sorry, I blanked out for a moment… what is it?"_

_Harry bit his lip. "Um… Iknowit'sweirdbutI'dreallylikeitifyousleptnexttome," he said in a rush._

_Draco blinked._

_Harry grimaced, and then repeated, a slight blush on his face, "I know it's a weird thing to ask, but I'd like it if you slept on the bed next to mine…?"_

_It took a while for the sentence to sink in, but when it did nothing could have stopped the wide smile that spread across Draco's face. "Of course," he said, trying to squish the feeling of warmth that fluttered through his body. "Which bed do you want?"_

_Harry beamed, and grabbed his hand, towing him to a bed next to the wall. "This one!" he declared, letting go of Draco and jumping onto it, bouncing on the bed. Draco laughed, and sat on the bed next to his; the other boys spread out from there, each picking a bed._

_And later that night, after lights-out when everyone else was sleeping, Draco awoke to the sensation of someone getting onto his bed. "Who…?" he said drowsily, half-alseep._

"_It's me," came the whisper._

_Draco came awake at the undertone of fear in that voice. "Harry? What's wrong… did you have a nightmare?"_

"_I… I'm not used to sleeping… so deep underground. Can I…"_

"_Of course," Draco interrupted, pushing down the covers. "Get in, it's cold."_

"…_Thank you." Harry crawled under the covers, and Draco pulled them over him. _

"_Good night, Harry," he said, already sliding into sleep._

"_Night, Draco."_

"…co? Draco?"

He came out of his reverie to see Harry scowling fiercely at him; for a moment he was disorientated, and then the whole fiasco came back to him. In that split second he wanted to yell at Harry for convincing him to try the potion, and himself for being convinced, but then he pushed the emotion away. It would not help.

Hermione had been the one calling him; now she watched him worriedly. "Are you alright? You blanked out for a while."

He wanted to say No, He Was Decidedly Not Alright, but now was not the time to cheek Hermione. He sighed instead, and sorted through his memories. Finding a good place to start, he began.

"The first day of classes, we had double potions with the Gryffindors…"

* * *

I realize the switching between worlds is pretty confusing… I apologize. I have no idea how to make it better, though, and I really dislike the idea of putting labels like 'Other World' or 'Normal World' before each segment – but if you guys think it'll help, then just say the word.

**Ashen Skies  
**"_In his mind's eye, the box burned."_


End file.
